


6.04 "Deep In The Shadows"

by Medie



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Enterprise, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Virtual Season/Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on Betazed for a summit of races friendly to Earth, Enterprise reencounters the Betazoid ambassador, Nevarra Sel. Who is monitoring Betazed's embassy on Earth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	6.04 "Deep In The Shadows"

**Author's Note:**

> for the [Enterprise Virtual Season 6](http://fiction.entstcommunity.org/browse.php?type=categories&catid=61). My thanks to Kylie Lee and Angelsgracie for their beta services. This story references [Fire or Water](http://archiveofourown.org/works/89862)

They'd given up speaking in her office altogether.

  
Nevarra Sel, ambassador of the planet Betazed to the people of Earth, loved her office. Her office was her sanctuary, her escape from the diplomatic rigmarole that was an unfortunate part and parcel of her new position. The spacious room in the compound gifted by their hosts offered a wonderful view of the harbor and of the city she had come to love. In the year she had been on the planet serving both her people and humans, Earth had been good to her and her people, but now...

  
She sighed, closed her eyes, and opened her mind, listening to the song of the planet. It was easy to get lost in it--in the sound of the minds of the city's inhabitants, the babble of thoughts of thousands speaking in one unified song. It was an escape from the idea that the planet she'd come to love had deceived her--that it had never been what she thought. She didn't want to believe it.

  
Someone was listening.

  
It had been confirmed just that morning. It was the reason she had fled to the safety of the roof and its view of San Francisco. Her people were not particularly skilled in the matters of combat and security; these things did not come easily to them, so she had looked outside her race for a head of security. Suvosh, a Vulcan, had spent some time methodically searching the embassy and had finally located a number of listening devices, including a tiny camera secreted in her office.

  
The revelation was chilling, all the more so for the unnecessary nature of it. Her people were not given to keeping many secrets. Even in matters of government, there was far more transparency than most outworlders were accustomed to. There were few matters discussed in her office that were particularly secret, and anyone who had taken the trouble to listen would now know that. They had not gone through the trouble of planting these devices to know about the new trade initiatives between Betazed and Earth. It suggested something far more troubling, particularly because no one could be entirely sure of how, or when, they had been planted. The only certainty was they had not been in place before their arrival.

  
Someone had managed to effectively disguise his or her presence from a compound full of telepaths long enough to hide the devices, and that was the true concern. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble, and Sel could think of no logical reason _why._ The implications were troubling to say the least; she had sent word to Betazed of the discovery, but thanks to the camera in her office, she did not trust that her communication channel was secure. She'd sent a message via courier instead. It would take time for the aide carrying the message to reach Betazed and return with an answer.

  
A familiar presence entered her awareness, and Sel sighed, pulling herself free of her contemplations. She opened her eyes on a young Vulcan woman. "T'Lan, what can I do for you?"

  
T'Lan, an aide to Suvosh, came to a stop at a respectful distance and held out a report for Sel's perusal. "We have located him." A hint of quiet satisfaction suffused her entire being, and although Sel knew she would never admit it, T'Lan was inordinately pleased with herself.

  
It was certainly a satisfaction well earned; locating this particular target was no small feat. Taking the report, the ambassador scanned the details, then nodded in satisfaction. She didn't show the quiet feeling of relief spreading through her, but it was a good feeling. "I'll need to see him before we leave," she instructed.

  
Home and duty were calling.

  


* * *

Someone was following him.

  
Reed had no concrete proof on the matter, of course, but he had the distinct feeling of certainty. Someone was following him, and though he--or she--neither advanced nor tipped his or her hand, Reed had been persistently followed since he had seen T'Pol to safety.

  
No amateurs need apply, however. Whoever it was, the behavior suggested top-notch training. Although Reed was certain of the presence, he had never quite managed a clear look, and all attempts he'd made to shake his tail had failed utterly. His ghost seemed most persistent: never varying, never wavering, and most certainly driving him round the bend.

  
The likelihood that his invisible companion (or, he conceded, companions) was anyone connected to his current targets were slim, but it did much to hinder his investigation. He was being watched, so certain moves he needed to make couldn't be done. He had been effectively shut down.

  
Frustration burned as he rounded a corner, immersing himself in the bustle of the afternoon rush. Something had to be done; too much was riding on his actions to allow himself to be delayed. Time was absolutely...

  
_Malcolm._

  
The voice calling his name stopped him cold. It took him only a half second to realize why.

  
"My god." The words fell unbidden from his lips as Reed turned to come face to familiar face. "Nev..." He stopped, catching himself. Decorum demanded respect, after all. Shaking his head, he began again, not missing the two stoic Vulcans flanking her, but not acknowledging them with anything other than a flick of an eye. "Ambassador, what brings you out on this absolutely dreadful, rainy day?" If he had to wager, and he could have been persuaded, he would suspect at least one of Ambassador Sel's little friends would turn out to be his invisible companion. A pity there was no way to confirm this, because she was unlikely to admit it; his retirement package could certainly do with the boost from the extra credits.

  
She smiled at him from beneath the hood of her cloak. "You, actually." She drew in a breath and stepped closer, lowering her voice before she continued. "I need your help."

  


* * *

"Here, drink up." Reed passed the steaming cup to her, watching the faint smile of bemusement playing about the Betazoid's lips. "That will warm you up, and yes, before you ask, coffee is largely the answer most humans will suggest in situations just such as this one. We've survived many a century thanks to this little bean."

  
The smile broke out in full and she obediently took a sip. "I'm supposed to be the telepath here, Lieutenant." He didn't quite manage to hide the reaction to the use of his former rank and watched her expression change. "I've said something wrong, haven't I?" she asked in consternation, putting down the cup. "What?"

  
He had to be cautious; he absolutely couldn't let her see what he was planning, and her comment had evoked thoughts that would certainly suggest it. She was a telepath, after all. "You weren't--"

  
"I wasn't reading your thoughts, no." Sel shook her head. "Most humans project everything outward all the time, constantly, but not all of them. You don't." She smiled at him. "I can't quite explain it, but you don't. There have been races we've encountered that we can't read at all, likely something to do with the physiology of their brains, but--" She gestured. "There are ways of training the mind to be difficult to read, but some people--some people just do it naturally. Which, of course, is a very long-winded way of saying I don't casually scan you."

  
After all his dithering, Harris would no doubt be pleased to know they'd passed muster.

  
"Imagine my relief," he joked. "All these embarrassing thoughts about the lovely lady ambassador. However would you respect me again?"

  
She grinned and took another sip of the coffee. "I'd be flattered if I didn't suspect you weren't trying to distract me, settle my nerves, and completely put me off the fact you're not in Starfleet anymore. I don't need telepathy to read body language, Malcolm. Your body language is being most eloquent in its lack of communication. And of course I heard about your leaving. I don't know why." It hung there like a question.

  
"Ah, yes," Reed agreed. "You've caught me there, I'm afraid. It's a rather complicated story, but at present, no, I'm no longer affiliated with Starfleet." He leaned in, jabbed a finger at the report lying on the table between them. "But I can help with this. As a matter of fact, it's become somewhat of an interest, thanks to a friend. I suggest when you get to the trade summit on Vulcan that you speak with Ambassador T'Pol. You may find a common concern on the matter."

  
That implication brought confused consternation to her face, and he could understand. Vulcan and Betazed were not typical bedfellows, although they traded with each other and relations by all accounts were cordial. Connecting the two as having a common problem was not readily apparent. "As for the matter of the devices, I'd like a look at them myself. The design and the construction could be quite informative. Your security chief--a Mister Suvosh, I believe? He can arrange it." Putting down his own mug, Reed continued. "Speaking of your security chief, he's a Vulcan."

  
"Surprisingly, my people are not used to matters relating to security and covert operations." She toyed with her coffee cup, turning it around and around. "The Vulcans, however, have maintained a highly efficient branch and were more than happy to provide the help." He grinned, making her realize what she'd said. "All right, 'happy' might not be the best turn of phrase for it, but you understand."

  
Reed sat back, looking out at the people passing by the café. "I do at that," he said. "I'll drop in on your Mr. Suvosh, have a look at these devices. By the time you return from the summit, we should have something."

  


* * *

"So." Sato stepped into sickbay, a cheerful smile on her face, "We've officially arrived in orbit around Betazed." It was strange, coming into Sickbay and not being greeted by the chirps, warbles, and occasional growls of Phlox's menagerie. She was slowly becoming accustomed to it, but it still felt a little off. If she wanted to visit the menagerie, she had to head down to a cargo bay.

  
Doctor Weber pulled his head out of the imaging chamber--she really didn't want to know what he was doing--and looked over at her. "By the very leading tone in your voice, Ensign, I suspect I am about to be shanghaied into a little touristy jaunt?"

  
"Not shanghaied," Sato scolded. "This is a purely voluntary mission, I promise. Come on, Doctor, you can't stay in here and hide. We've been given a second chance with these people. Last time we were here, it ended..." She sighed. "Well, at best it ended as...not a disaster."

  
Sato wasn't sure that was the best way to describe it. _Enterprise_ had gotten caught up in a murder mystery. At the end of their investigation, the accused crew member, Rostov, had been cleared of the young woman's murder, but she was still dead, her former fiancé was still guilty of the crime, and the whole of Betazed still felt responsible for the whole situation. The idea that one of their own could kill, then frame an alien for the crime was reprehensible to them.

  
Weber asked ironically, "And you think our happy, smiling faces will change that memory for them?"

  
"We can try, yes," Sato agreed. "They're good people, and right now, we need good people. We especially need good people who are willing to take a chance on us by holding this summit. After what happened on Alpha Centauri--they're taking a massive risk here. The least we can do is show our faces and spend a few credits. And I can show you around a little. It'll be fun! Believe me, seeing Rixx at night alone is worth the price of transport."

  
Weber left the imaging chamber and crossed sickbay to make notes on a PADD. "You seem bound and determined to get me down to that planet, Ensign. Any particular reason as to why, or did Travis turn you down?" He flicked a grin her way, and Sato made sure she looked appropriately guilty. In truth, she hadn't even asked Mayweather--mostly because she knew he was unavailable, but mostly because she thought seeing Betazed would be good for Weber. She'd learned that the last time he'd been on an alien world, someone he'd loved had died. That was no way to remember space.

  
"You'll love it," she promised. "And you cannot come all the way to a planet like Betazed and _not_ see it."

  
"You didn't answer my question," he said, a chuckle in the words. She let her smile turn cheeky. "But you're making an admirable effort, and that should be rewarded." Folding his arms across his chest, Weber leaned against a console and met her gaze. "All right, Ensign, if you want to show me the sights of Betazed, then we'll go."

  
She nodded. "Good."

  
"Yes." Weber pushed away from the console and Doctor passed her on his way out the door. "And maybe while we're there, you'll tell me the real reason you want me along."

  


* * *

It was unexpected, the sense that stole over T'Pol upon rematerialization on Betazed's surface. There was no logical reason for the sensations she experienced as she took in the surrounding city of Rixx. Betazed had been among the first of the planets she had visited in her service with the High Command. She had been a part of the decision to bring Earth and Betazed together in the initial negotiations, and she supposed she had a certain fondness for the planet. It pleased her to see them prosper and to see them reaching out to support Earth, even when it meant endangering their own safety. Betazed lacked the resources to appropriately defend themselves against an attack. Defying the Romulan warning meant great personal risk, and yet her information suggested support for the summit was high. The whole of the population was united in their wish to do penance, to make up for their original mistake. It was admirable.

  
It was illogical for them to be so concerned over the incident that had occurred during _Enterprise_'s last visit but, nevertheless, she found their intent admirable. Unwittingly, it seemed that Betazed was finding a new voice for her people out of what they believed to be their most shameful mistake. Humanity seemed to be a particularly unusual catalyst for such things. The irony was not lost on T'Pol. Vulcan had more in common with the Betazoid race than any of her people would have ever thought to expect.

  
"I'd forgotten how beautiful this planet was."

  
T'Pol turned at Captain Jonathan Archer's words, looking about the city again. "Indeed." Betazed's lush, natural beauty, combined with the artistic beauty of the architecture, made the planet unusual in its appeal.

  
"Of course, the last time I was here, with everything that happened, I didn't get to see a whole lot of the planet." Archer sighed with regret. "It seems to be an unfortunate habit I've managed to pick up somewhere."

  
"I am sure you will eventually correct that particular habit. You have always shown a particular aptitude for defying all calculable odds," T'Pol assured him with a tilt of her head. "Perhaps if this trip goes well, you should attempt a return to Vulcan for a similar visit."

  
"Oh, no, I won't." Archer shook his head firmly. "Official visits only. Planets with roaming bears and storms that fry your brain are not for pleasure. All things considered, Starfleet should be conducting its extreme survival training in the Forge. Cadets that make it through that can handle anything."

  
His remark was clearly made in jest, but T'Pol considered it thoughtfully. "There is a marked course for that purpose; it is unlikely that would be available for Starfleet's use, as it is intended for children and their Kahs-wan. But it is likely that another could be arranged." Indeed it was; the Forge was not ordinarily used for the purposes of outworlders, but it was likely that the Council could be persuaded. "Prepare an appropriate proposal on Starfleet's behalf, and Ms. Pike will submit it on your behalf. Such a proposal would be a logical point of discussion for the summit." Rachel Pike was Earth's ambassador to Betazed, although she'd recently taken a trip to Andoria in the interests of diplomacy.

  
Archer, surprised, looked thoughtful at her serious suggestion. She suspected Starfleet and its services would be in frequent demand at the summit. _Enterprise_ had made a name for herself among the many planets they'd encountered, and it was only a matter of time until others came seeking what they offered.

  
"Of course, we may wish to brief Starfleet on the existence of the Le-Maytas," T'Pol mused aloud. "It would be most unfortunate for a cadet to be eaten."

  
The captain stopped and looked at her blankly. "A Le-what?"

  
"Indeed."

  


* * *

"Malcolm Reed."

  
Reed absolutely did not jump when the unfamiliar voice spoke from behind him. He almost did, but almost did not count. "Mr. Suvosh, I presume?" he managed drolly, turning to face the Vulcan.

  
Suvosh inclined his head in greeting. "Quite. The ambassador suggested you would be visiting the embassy. I thought it appropriate we meet beforehand." He produced a small box and held it out. "I brought with me one of the devices--deactivated of course--for your examination. Consultation with my colleagues at the Vulcan embassy has confirmed it is similar in design to the ones they have discovered. Circumstantial evidence suggests a common perpetrator, but clearly, at the moment, circumstantial is the best that any of us is able to claim."

  
Reed accepted the box, then crossed the floor of his small room to activate countermeasures. "That's what I've begun to suspect, yes." He took the device out of the box, then flicked a look the Vulcan's way. "V'Shar?"

  
An approving look accompanied Suvosh's quiet confirmation, and Reed knew he'd scored what passed for professional points among the Vulcans. Familiarity with the intelligence services of other planets was almost standard procedure in Starfleet Intelligence and Section, but nevertheless, he suspected that Suvosh had not expected him to be familiar with his Vulcan counterparts.

  
"Indeed," Suvosh agreed. "Ambassador Sel has had dealings with us in her prior profession; she passed word to me through certain diplomatic channels of her wish for assistance."

  
"She's a friend, then?" Reed commented conversationally, filling the silence as he began to examine the device.

  
"Yes."

  
Of course, attempting idle conversation with a Vulcan was a bit like, well, attempting idle conversation with a Vulcan. It was just not easily done, and damn...He set the device down. "I was afraid of that."

  


* * *

They transported down rather than taking a shuttlepod. Sato couldn't quite ignore the flutter in her stomach when they dematerialized. Someday it was not going to bother her when she transported; someday it would be so routine that being troubled would not even enter her mind. Someday wasn't today, and she scowled when the effect swept her away. It was silly; she knew it was silly.

  
"My grandmother had an expression," Weber commented when they rematerialized on Betazed's surface and he caught sight of her face. "Well, actually, she had a lot of expressions but this one is especially appropriate, considering that look."

  
"What look?" she asked, smiling at the sight of the planet again.

  
"Grandma used to say if you're not careful, the wind would change and your face'll be stuck that way." He chuckled. "Never did get that to work, but damned if I didn't try it."

  
She could see that--a little boy standing in the wind, contorting his face in all sorts of hideous poses, waiting for it to freeze that way. "You must've been a handful to take care of." She indicated their direction with a tilt of the head, and Weber fell in beside her as they headed toward the market, just a street away. "Your poor grandmother."

  
"My poor grandmother?" Weber said mockingly. "That woman was an unholy terror--always with the vitamins and oils. It's a wonder I made it to my teens, let alone medical school." He huffed and then admitted, "She was a saint."

  
Whether or not he wanted to say more, Sato couldn't tell, because a display of pottery caught his interest the moment they turned into the marketplace. "I can see what you mean about this planet, Ensign," he commented. "I was going to come here once with a friend."

  
His expression didn't change with the use of the word, so she didn't think he referred to the friend whom he'd lost. She chided herself silently. He had never confided in her. She was inferring all this information from what she'd gleaned from a peek at his personnel file. It was her hope that he'd unburden himself to her, because she felt guilty about what she'd done.

  
Weber continued, "The Betazoids and the Vulcans do have one very important shared physiological trait." He glanced over his shoulder, waiting for Sato to move closer before he continued. "The Betazoids are by far stronger telepaths than the Vulcans, but nevertheless, they have created similar medical and psychological issues relating to it. They're only just starting to really think about working on it together--they're talking about a joint facility to research it. T'Penna's a healer working on the committee to plan the facility, but I'm afraid the trip got rescheduled." He hesitated, enough to tell her what had happened.

  
"You were unavailable to go the next time," she finished, offering him an out as she reached past him to finger the gaily decorated woven fabric sign that advertised the pottery. Everything was a work of art here. "That's always how it goes with us intrepid explorer types. We go when we can, because we never know where we'll be even the next day."

  
There were no guarantees anywhere, really. The Xindi attack had demonstrated that point quite effectively. There was nowhere that anyone could say was truly safe. On _Enterprise,_ there was the constant threat of the unknown around the corner. Some days, it was first contact with a race like the Vulcans; on the other, it was first contact with a race like the Romulans--no guarantees. But planetside the risk was no better, only harder to see. Asteroids, attacks from ships in orbit, suns going nova...No guarantees for anyone.

  
Letting the light material of the sign rest in her hands, Sato took in the intricate beauty of the weaving, then smiled at Weber as she released it. "Makes every second of it count, doesn't it?"

  
The doctor met her gaze, his own eyes barely hinting at what had to be going on behind them. "Yes," he agreed quietly, no doubt hundreds of light years away in his thoughts, "it does."

  


* * *

She was not prepared for the feeling that the sight of her home world filling the _Defiant_'s main screen evoked in her. She had been away for an entire year, far longer than she had ever been away from the planet before. The longing that tugged at her soul was not eased by the sense of her people filling her mind. The song of billions of Betazoid minds was nothing like the kaleidoscope of Earth, and its siren song (such a lovely fable) had her taking a step forward as though she could step through the screen and onto her homeworld.

  
Her human companions were not immune to the effect, and their reaction pulled her away from her own entrancement with the screen. Looking over her shoulder, she was again reminded that many of the _Defiant_'s crew had never been this far out. The awe brought on by the sight of Betazed had a humbling--and energizing--effect on the freshman ambassador.

  
"Welcome to Betazed, Captain Stiles," she said quietly, smiling at the equally awed starship captain.

  
The sandy-haired man pulled his gaze away from the planet and nodded at her. "Thank you, Ambassador. Hopefully I'll actually have a chance to get down there and poke around a bit--see if it's as beautiful as you've been telling me."

  
She inclined her head to acknowledge the point. "As do I, Captain. But I'm sure you'll find Betazed far surpasses my meager descriptions. I'm also sure that with your ship, _Enterprise, Columbia,_ and the _Bonaventure,_ not to mention the Vulcan ships, you all will get a chance to visit. After all," she couldn't resist a joke, "why else would Starfleet fast-track two more warp 5 vessels into service if not to let you do a little sightseeing?"

  
"Well." Captain Stiles paused to consider it, then leaned forward, "Mostly? It was because Archer and Hernandez were afraid the rest of us were about ready to run off with their ships, so they put the screws to Starfleet to make 'em work faster."

  
"We've achieved a stable orbit, Captain," the _Defiant_'s navigator reported over her shoulder.

  
The ship's communication officer was hot on her heels: "The Betazoids send their regards. They welcome us to Betazed and say that Ambassador Sel may join them at her leisure."

  
"Which means I don't have any, so I should get moving," said ambassador translated. There was much to discuss even before the summit began, including a meeting she needed to have with Ambassador T'Pol. "Much to do, a lot of reports to make--and not to say the least, time to spend assuring the minister I haven't gone native on her."

  
"Allow me to escort you to your shuttlepod, Ambassador." Stiles slid out of his chair and handed off command to his executive officer as Sel said her good-byes to the bridge staff.

  
Navigating _Defiant_'s corridors was an adventure of its own, with crew members rushing every which way to finish their duties. She hadn't been kidding with her comment: with the attack on Alpha Centauri, Starfleet had rushed to finish the ships in construction and had pushed the _Defiant_ and _Bonaventure_ into service months ahead of their launch dates. _Defiant_'s engineering staff was clearly keen to finish a few jobs and had pressed their crewmates into service. She and Stiles had to stand to the side more than once to let workers with equipment by.

  
"I feel as though I should apologize," she commented as they let another apologetic pair of crew members by. "Were Betazed's planetary security what it should be, your vessel would not have been launched before she was truly ready to go." It seemed that she had been apologizing for her world's lax security far too much for far too long. A meeting with the appropriate government minister to discuss it was in order. Betazed could no longer afford their old ways. They were part of something larger now, and Betazed had a part to play in all this, no matter what reassurance the captain was about to give.

  
"Nonsense, Ambassador. The trip here is providing us with exactly what every ship needs early in her service: a good shakedown. We need to know what works and what needs fussing with before we can really get going." Stiles pulled her aside, out of the way of the next group of crewmen walking by. "And besides, ma'am, we _need_ to do this."

  
That she believed. The truth of the message lay in the sense of what he was saying more than the words. Nevarra Sel had learned in her years of investigation, and now diplomacy, that she truly needed to rely on the tone and context of a response more than the wording of the response itself. The truth lay in the spaces between words.

  
With this truth, she smiled and nodded. "I understand. It is our pleasure to assist in that."

  


* * *

There were certain advantages to friends in high places; Reed could not disagree with that particular sentiment at all. He had never paid much advantage to it before, but upon leaving the Betazoid embassy, he was most assuredly a believer and already working on a proposal. At some point in the future, Starfleet Intelligence and the V'Shar needed to collaborate on training and tactics. Having worked with Suvosh, there was much he stood to learn--and much he could teach.

  
Suvosh's particular attention to discretion was admirable. After his exclamation, Reed knew it must have taken a great deal of control not to demand further explanation. Regretting that lapse as he did, he was relieved Suvosh had deliberately let it be and had not asked what about the devices had alarmed him so. He didn't want to be the one to have to inform a Vulcan intelligence agent that humans were illegally monitoring a relatively harmless people for no other reason than their own paranoia.

  
It was the last thing he needed. He didn't doubt that this little disaster had begun with Harris. The man had a habit for this sort of thing. The Betazoids--unlike the Vulcans--had no real influence among their allies. Their contribution to the galaxy tended toward arts and sciences, which did not give them the political influence of their fellows. If Harris had started this, the Section had continued it, and they weren't watching the Betazoids for the same reason they watched the Vulcans.

  
He and Suvosh had removed the devices, which would perhaps give the people listening a little moment of panic, but that would not be the end of it. Hardly. The Betazoids were of interest purely because of their telepathic talents and their rather impressive conscience. If the listeners overheard something they thought it necessary to reveal, the damage to Earth's security, not to mention its reputation, could potentially be disastrous. That fear Reed could understand. He was afraid of what they might find out as well. He didn't much want to see the heartbreak humanity's duplicity would cause, but he feared that it would be inevitable.

  
Reed exhaled heavily and picked up one of the devices. "Nevarra, I am so very sorry." He thought of the ambassador, on her way home. Well, he was on Earth, and he was going to deal with this, quickly and carefully. Too much and he would tip his hand; too little, and the devices would be impossible to find next time. And that wouldn't do at all.

  


* * *

Nevarra Sel's family, who were of moderate means, resided on a side street in the area of Rixx colloquially known as the Old City. It was not a place one would expect to find two ambassadors embroiled in a highly secret meeting, which was precisely why T'Pol had agreed to the meeting place when it had been suggested.

  
"Before I left Earth, I took a meeting with a mutual friend."

  
Sel handed T'Pol a mug--beautifully thrown pottery--before she sat down at the kitchen table next to her guest. With the exception of the MACOs lurking discreetly outside the room, the two women were alone in the house. "Indeed," T'Pol responded, encouraging further comment but keeping her voice deliberately noncommittal. She took a sip of fragrant tea and waited for her hostess to explain the purpose of the meeting.

  
Sel smiled wryly in answer, clearly having caught on. "Yes. I needed to discuss a matter of security with him, and he intimated that you might very well have a similar problem. In the course of that, he suggested that I meet with you to discuss it." She paused, looking down at her own mug. "The fact of it is, we've uncovered a large number of monitoring devices in the embassy--my personal quarters and my office included in those. Someone is very concerned to know what I know."

  
Logically, this should be no surprise. It was not unexpected that they would be listening to races other than the Vulcans. It seemed odd that anyone would listen to the Betazoids, but the telepathic abilities that made their culture one of transparency and peace also made them a formidable problem for intelligence agents. "Mr. Reed was correct; we are too experiencing the same problem."

  
"But I suspect you know more about it than I." Sel sighed as T'Pol nodded.

  
"If it were not for my previous position, I would not know," T'Pol explained, placing her mug on the table. "I allude to my tenure as executive officer of the _Enterprise._ The information relating to the situation was uncovered before I became ambassador. Had it not been, I would not have been briefed as to the source of the surveillance until such time as it was declassified--very well never." She paused, then added, "Friends on Earth are attempting to deal with the responsible faction. Rest assured of this: humanity does not always act as one, Ambassador."

  
That brought a surprisingly light laugh from the Betazoid. "Does anyone?"

  
T'Pol could say nothing to that, so she nodded.

  
Sel pushed her chair back, apparently struck by a thought. "On the way here, I was going over some numbers and the report from the last summit. I think I have an idea on how we can help them. The humans, I mean."

  
The expression on her face made T'Pol straighten and say, "Continue."

  


* * *

It was an unusual predicament in which T'Pol found herself--amusing, though she would never admit such. Ambassador Sel's plan could be considered an alien conspiracy. Indeed, T'Pol was certain that Jonathan Archer and Trip Tucker, among others, would term it such.

  
Rachel Pike was the last one to find her way to the little café where T'Pol and Nevarra Sel waited. The cheerful diplomat dropped into a chair and smiled gratefully at the waiter who immediately brought her a chilled drink. "God, I love this planet," she announced with a grin. "Waiters who always know what you need...it's beautiful."

  
"It is agreeable to be here again," T'Pol affirmed.

  
Pike nodded. "After Andoria? This is heaven on..." She stopped, chuckling. "Well, not _Earth,_ but the sentiment is the same."

  
"Speaking of the Andorians." Their Betazoid host leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table as she shifted the conversation. "How did that little trip go?"

  
Neither Sel nor T'Pol really needed to ask how difficult the negotiations were. The trade summit--that is, the second attempt at one--was technically a respite for her. However, both women knew Pike was expecting the question, and so it was asked.

  
Indeed, the sigh that came from the human woman was almost one of relief. "Impossible, infuriating, idiotic...I actually have a list of words to describe how utterly pointless the negotiations are; it's cross-referenced and annotated. I've developed a whole new level of respect for Ambassador V'Lar and Captain Archer." She shook her head wearily. "The Andorians seem hell-bent on sticking to their opinion. Even Commander Shran seems exasperated with their refusal to listen."

  
"They're afraid," Sel murmured sadly.

  
"They are being handsomely rewarded," T'Pol disagreed, unwilling to characterize the issue in sympathetic language. "Possibly they are even being blackmailed or threatened until we are able to determine a method of counteracting both. Earth will have to seek out new economic allies." She inclined her head at Sel. "It is appropriate of you to suggest it now."

  
"Speaking of," Sel answered, smiling. "I spoke to the ambassador from Trill this morning. His people have already had a disastrous first contact, as you well know, T'Pol. They're willing to consider trade with Earth. After their run-in with the L'Dira, they've decided that staying out of things is pointless."

  
"They're not intimidated by the Romulans?" Pike's eyebrows rose in surprise.

  
"They are already allies of Vulcan," T'Pol interjected. "It is likely they already see themselves as potential targets because of this. It is a logical assumption and, as Ambassador Sel said, they have already had losses. Those deaths resulted from their attempt to stay out of galactic affairs. As your people would say, damned if you do, damned..."

  
"...if you don't," Pike said in unison. "Or--in for a penny, in for a pound, as another of our colorful idioms go. Well, whatever their reason for getting involved, I won't knock it. I'll corner their ambassador first chance I get." She smiled gratefully at them both. "Thank you, both of you, for the work you're doing here. Whether the negotiations pan out or not, you've gone out of your way to help us, and that's a gesture I can't let pass without expressing gratitude."

  
T'Pol considered a number of responses which would have been appropriate to offer in answer. "It is the only gesture that could be made. Vulcan will not bow to the threats of cowards who hide in the dark."

  
Beside her, Ambassador Sel nodded firmly. "After everything that happened between our two worlds last year, Rachel, it's the very least my people can do."

  
If one considered the difficulties they were both experiencing, then that reasoning was not entirely sound, but T'Pol did not say so to either woman. Pike had no knowledge of the illegal surveillance being conducted on both Vulcan and Betazed's embassies, and Sel had likely not allowed that to factor into her decision. The emotionalism of Betazoids was not always as illogical as their Vulcan allies maintained.

  


* * *

San Francisco in the predawn hours brought back memories. Reed wasn't precisely sure what had led him to the flight training facility, but here he was. He stood in the shadows of a large oak and watched as cadets in their training-issue sweats trooped across the grounds, or ran in formation with their instructor barking out orders and hot on their heels. Funny that he would feel nostalgic about this place, considering all that had happened here. But he was, and since he needed somewhere to think, this was as good a place as any.

  
Something about the surveillance was weighing on him, bothering him, and he couldn't quite put a finger on it. It wasn't really bothering him either, not so much as...

  
Reed scowled and turned away from the cadets. Offended, that was the word. It offended him. The work was almost unbearably sloppy. For them to take so much care in slipping past the security systems of two embassies populated by telepathic species to plant devices, only to place them in such a way that they were found? Perhaps not easily found, but found nonetheless. It was bloody sloppy, and that was the point.

  
"And I'm calling _them_ sloppy," he muttered to himself, annoyed at his own mistake. "How could I have possibly missed it?"

  
He headed down the hill, letting his mind run with the realization. The worst part of it all was the fact that he could recall a time such a strategy would have been immediately obvious to him. He'd been out of it too long, and in an odd way, that made him proud. Depending on one's perspective, Archer had been either an exceptionally bad influence on him, or an exceptionally good one. He suspected Harris would have had a very different opinion on it than his. Pity he didn't put much stock in Harris's opinion anymore.

  
As for the little matter of the surveillance issue--things would have to be handled delicately. Suvosh and his counterpart at the Vulcan embassy had found the devices that were meant to be found. The ones that truly mattered would not be so easily located. They were the devices not meant to be found at all, and that was the stickiest part of it all. Even if they could be found, they had to be left in place or they risked alerting their adversaries to the fact they'd been uncovered.

  
"Point to you," he murmured. "Point to you."

  


* * *

Betazoid architecture certainly made for pleasant surroundings. It was almost possible to forget why _Enterprise_ had come back to the planet. The cultural center the Betazoid minister of the interior had chosen to hold actual negotiations in was an amazing marriage of stone and crystal. Archer leaned in to examine a carving just as the sound of a shoe on the stone floor signaled he was no longer alone.

  
"This place is incredible," Archer commented over his shoulder.

  
"I'm so glad you approve, Captain."

  
A grin began to spread over his face. Turning, he let it blossom at the sight of Anandra Chal standing in the doorway. "Madam Minister," he offered in greeting.

  
"Captain Archer," she countered, echoing his grin. "Welcome back to Betazed."

  
He crossed the room to grasp her outstretched hands in greeting. "It's good to see you again." The slender woman hadn't changed much. She wore the pressures of her office well. "You look good."

  
"As do you," Chal responded. "I must confess, I had not thought I would be seeing you again so soon." She stepped back, looking regretful. "After last year, I had thought that it would be many years, but I am pleased to know I was wrong."

  
Archer nodded. "Well, I just wish it was under better circumstances."

  
"Quite so," she sighed. "Has the Romulans' threat really done so much damage?"

  
He'd forgotten what it was like to talk to her--the relief of not having to try and articulate his feelings on certain matters. In truth, Betazoids for miles around them probably knew his opinion on the situation of the Romulan threat against Earth's allies. "It's not all bad. The Vulcans are standing tight, but it's not good either. They're afraid and unwilling to listen to reason. It's the threat of attack from an invisible ship; they can't get past the demonstration on Alpha Centauri. A part of me can't blame them for their fear, but..." He shrugged.

  
"But the rest of you is furious that they've allowed themselves to be swayed by it," she finished for him regretfully. "Yes, I can understand that."

  
"I should be thanking you for offering to host a second summit," he commented. "It's a good idea, but I have my doubts any of them will actually attend."

  
He well remembered the fallout of the failed negotiations on Alpha Centauri. Somehow Doctor Phlox's predicament hit him particularly hard: the Denobulan had gone home in a catatonic state after his wife and one of her other husbands had been killed in the attack. He had attempted communication a few times, but the Earth embassy on Denobula had been dissolved when Denobula broke off relations with Earth, and he'd gotten the brush-off from other channels. He'd sent a few messages but didn't know whether Phlox had gotten them. He had no idea how--or if--Phlox was recovering.

  
"It's a chance," Chal noted. "Our ambassador spoke with me just after her arrival. She's had some interesting thoughts on the matter." Archer noticed that she didn't elaborate, but he didn't press her. She would sense his curiosity, and she'd satisfy it if she chose. "The summit itself is a message, whether anyone attends or not. They have bowed to the Romulans' threat, but you have not bowed to theirs, and their lack of support is a threat in and of itself." She shook her head. "My people have been plagued by raiders in the past. We will probably be so for many years to come. The one thing I've learned in all the endless arguments about security is that there is never enough of it. I could surround this planet with a thousand ships; they would still find a way through. They always find a way through if the impetus is strong enough."

  
"Which is why you weren't afraid to hold the summit," he supplied, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

  
Chal didn't look at him, but the smile playing about her lips spoke volumes. "We are afraid, Captain, make no mistake. My people do not wish to endanger their lives needlessly, but this is not without need. You will continue your exploration, and those of us you encounter in your travels--those of us that you help--need to support you and stand at your side. Betazed cannot be of much use in a battle, but we can help now. We can help in this."

  
She meant it, although Archer had his doubts about the Betazoid's uselessness in battle. Perhaps their telepathic sensitivity meant that they could not bear arms, but they would make formidable intelligence officers, negotiators, and diplomats. Still, the steadfast determination in her voice brought a genuine smile to his face. "Where were you the last time we tried this?" he joked, already knowing the answer she was going to provide.

  
Chal threw an amused look his way. "Ah. As you know, we were not invited." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "As I said, we are no great military superpower. We lack the influence the Vulcans or the Andorians wield. What we do have is a lovely, strategically located planet that is currently ringed by a rather impressive array of your starships, not to mention a few of our Vulcan friends. Might I add, I'm afraid that the Romulans' invitation was lost in subspace." She inclined herself in a half-bow. "I promise to convey my deepest apologies on the matter at my earliest convenience."

  
"About three days after never?" Archer chuckled. "I think that sounds good to me."

  
She laughed and nodded. "Three days after never it is."

  


* * *

By the time negotiations at any summit got officially underway, a good many deals had already been reached and plans put in place. This one had been no different. Though it lacked the high profile of the Alpha Centauri summit, with the attendees at nowhere near the same influence or power, it didn't matter.

  
As she entered the meeting chamber, her formal Vulcan robes sweeping the floor, T'Pol caught sight of Nevarra Sel and Rachel Pike conversing with the Argelian ambassador. She nodded a greeting across the room to each one in sequence, then to Jonathan Archer, before taking in the other delegates as they milled about. Arcadians, Deltans, the Axanar, and the Trill numbered among the races that had been willing to risk the threat of the Romulans to attend.

  
It was most agreeable to see them all.

  
"This just might turn out better than I'd expected," Captain Archer commented into her ear a moment later. He'd been talking with a Trill when she'd entered, but he'd immediately sought her out. She had missed that camaraderie, she realized. "I passed a few more ambassadors on my way in. They're at least willing to talk."

  
T'Pol turned to look at him. "Some of them have been doing more than that, Captain. I doubt that many confirmed alliances will be made in the open negotiations here, but a number have already been struck prior to it." She gestured subtly to Pike and Sel. "We have been...busy."

  
It took a moment for her implication to sink in. The process of that understanding was easily played out on his face, and when Archer's face settled into a bemused grin, she knew it had completed. Looking from the other ambassadors back to her, he let out a soft chuckle. "What have you been doing?"

  
She tilted her head. "I have been doing my job, Captain. Vulcan will profit immensely from a number of the arrangements that we have made here. The fact that Earth will profit from them as well is irrelevant to my stated goal of improving Vulcan's relations with a number of the races in attendance here."

  
Archer nodded along with her statement, taking it all in. When she was done, T'Pol waited silently. He was going to have something to say--she knew that only too well. He didn't rush into it, but when he was ready, he leaned close to simply say, "Bull."

  
She furrowed her brow in mock misunderstanding. "I must apologize, Captain Archer, but I do not understand what weight a Terran animal would carry with my statements here." She knew full well, of course, but she did not in truth understand it. In her lifetime, T'Pol had dealt with many different races, but none of them spoke with such peculiarities of speech as her human friends.

  
He grinned. "Oh yes you do, Com...Ambassador, you understand only too well."

  
T'Pol would have protested, but a page came to a stop before them. "If you would take your seats, Captain, Ambassador, we are ready to begin."

  
"See you at the reception," the captain said. He gave her arm a squeeze, then took his leave to sit with the human delegation.

  
This was not a summit anyone had expected to see come into existence, but it was doubtlessly a successful one for Betazed and Earth alike. T'Pol settled into her chair as she considered the faces of the men and women sitting around the table. All of them were aware of the risks they were taking by merely being present at it; their respective governments had all agreed that the Romulan threat was not one to be taken lightly. Indeed, the facial expressions of many carried that awareness along with a healthy dose of determination.

  
That seemed most obvious on the expression of Ambassador Odan, the Trill representative. T'Pol had never had dealings with the Trill; T'Pau had handled primary negotiations and contact with their government at about the same time as others had been handling the first contact with Earth. She had consulted with the minister over the matter as soon as she had been briefed on Trill's participation. As far as relationships with other worlds went, it would beneficial for both Earth and Trill to develop diplomatic relations based on trade, particularly if one compared the Trill incident with the L'Dira's unprovoked attack on their world to the Xindi's attack on Earth. The situations were not entirely the same, but they were not dissimilar, and the mentality of both could do much to help both races. The Axanar she knew had largely come out of loyalty to Archer, and although she had yet to discern the motives of the other attendees, she knew that this was a most historic occasion.

  
She ceased her contemplations when Minister Anandra Chal walked to the center of the room to a podium and rested her hands on it. The Betazoid looked at the surrounding people and smiled as everyone quieted.

  
"Welcome," she began calmly. "A year ago, I had the great fortune to meet emissaries from a planet I had never heard of until our Vulcan friends approached us about them." A shadow passed over her face, which T'Pol understood. It had not gone to plan at all. "I don't regret that meeting, even with the difficulties that have come from it." Chal looked to the human delegation as she spoke that, a private message to the _Enterprise_ crew. "This is our chance to help you, and we are honored to have the privilege."

  
Thus said, she stepped down amid a smattering of applause and was replaced by Archer. During their last visit to Betazed, the captain had been told by Pike that she fully believed he would one day be pulled into a diplomatic career whether he wanted it or not. T'Pol had not disagreed with that assessment then, and she did not disagree now. The captain had not been a man she would have associated with a diplomatic career in the first few years she had known him, but he had come to display quite an aptitude for it. By the standards of some, Archer's methodology on the matter was most unorthodox. Given the standard of success he had achieved employing those methods, he had convinced T'Pol that perhaps they were exactly what the galaxy required and had been lacking for far too long.

  
"I don't know some of you," he began, looking at the ambassadors and staff who surrounded him. "But I feel like I already owe you a debt of thanks. Your worlds are taking on a great personal risk to your safety to even think of opening trade relations with my people. The Romulans have made it abundantly clear what they think of the idea." He smiled sadly. "Some of our longtime allies have given into the fear of those threats, and I'm not sure I entirely blame them for that. But I am sure of this. Even if you share their fear, your concern for your worlds' prosperity, and for the galaxy itself, overrode it. I don't know what will happen here today. I don't know what deals will come of these negotiations, or what alliances will be forged. But I do know that they will be secondary to the real achievement today. We are not afraid, and we will not be ordered around by shadowy figures hiding in the dark."

  
T'Pol lifted her head as Archer met her eyes. "We didn't know what we were getting into when we went into deep space," he continued. "The Vulcans tried to tell us, but we needed to see it for ourselves. We've paid dearly for our curiosity, but the price was worth paying. The races we've met, the things that we have seen--all of it was worth the risk and the danger. We paid in blood, and the voices of the dead speak from the grave to say it was worth it. The future was worth it. We don't have time to be afraid; the future doesn't wait for us to overcome our fears, and it's not waiting now. We are becoming our future, and it is an honor to include you in it. Thank you."

  
The applause was thunderous. From where she sat, T'Pol caught the captain's eye and inclined her head in respect. Worth it indeed.

  


* * *

When she emerged during a break in the negotiations, Hoshi Sato smiled when she saw Doctor Weber waiting for her in the market's food court. By the look of the array of foods displayed on the table, the good doctor was happily experimenting with Betazoid cooking. "You look like you're enjoying yourself," she announced with a bright smile, sliding into the seat opposite him.

  
"Oh, I am at that," he agreed. "Here, try this." He passed a small plate of little pastries to her, then picked up a mug. "I have to confess, I am drinking Vulcan mocha, but the rest of this is entirely local cuisine. I'm fairly certain I saw Chef not too long ago, and by the look of him, he was trying to get his hands on a few recipes to go with some arcane ingredients he discovered."

  
Sato looked over her shoulder out of reflex, half expecting to find their beloved Chef haranguing one of the food court employees. "He probably will, you know. There's a betting pool on whether or not he's involved in Starfleet Intelligence. If he hears the words 'secret recipe,' it's practically an affront to his honor." She turned back to face him. "He won't stop until he gets it."

  
"He almost got it, all right," Weber chuckled. "I thought my services were going to be needed for a few minutes there. One of them practically chased him out of here with what looked like an old-fashioned rolling pin." He took another sip of his hot drink. "Exactly how is it going in there?"

  
"Slow," she admitted, picking up a spoon so she could try the pastry. "After the opening speeches from Captain Archer and Minister Chal, it took a while for us to get really into it." She blushed, remembering how everyone had reacted to the Deltans. More than one delay had been attributed to their unique ability to distract the other delegate. The Orion slave girls hadn't gotten that kind of reaction, but unlike them, the Deltans had seemed chagrined. "But we are making progress," she continued after clearing her throat. "Everyone is determined to make something of this."

  
"After what happened the last time, can't say that I blame them." Weber nodded his head toward a uniformed trio of Starfleet officers walking by. "It looks as though the it's the _Defiant_'s turn."

  
"Turn for what?" Sato inquired, taking a bite of the pastry and closing her eyes in bliss. Chef was getting the recipe for this if she had to take one back to _Enterprise_ and run it through the sensors to discover the ingredients.

  
"Well, officially they're calling it shore leave. Unofficially, they're damned curious about the place and wanted to poke around a little. It's not Risa, but..."

  
The innuendo in his voice had her opening her eyes wide in shock. "Doctor!" Laughing, she put down her spoon as she tried to scold him. "That's...They're not here..." She shook her head, giving up. "I can't believe you just said that!" Actually, she could. The more the good Doctor Weber relaxed, the more she got to see of the rather sly sense of humor that was lurking underneath his professional face.

  
His grin of mischief made her smile. This was what she'd been after when she'd talked him into coming down to Betazed with her. There was a look of humor and relaxation about him that she hadn't seen much of, and it was good to see. The speeches from earlier in the day came back to her again, and she took another bite of pastry to give herself a moment. The summit had never been just about economics and trade relations. It had never been just about that any more than inviting Weber along had been just about tourism. Maybe both had been more successful than they could have hoped.

  
If he knew what she was thinking, Weber didn't let on as he leaned his elbows on the table and nodded sagely. "Oh, I did indeed just say that, Ensign and we both know they're thinking it. I have given far too many lectures to young Starfleet officers and diplomats on the matter of interspecies relations to ever believe that any of them are _not_ thinking about it anytime first contact is made and diplomatic relations are initiated. It might not have been what Zefram Cochrane was talking about when he said we would go boldly where no man has gone before, but..."

  
Sato pressed a hand to her face, laughing. She'd created a monster. "You're awful, Doctor," she told him, laughing still. "That was just...I'm going to have to go back in there still thinking about that! What if one of Ambassador Sel's party hears me?"

  
"Then you'll have given them something to laugh about as well," he said, reaching for a new plate. "Now, try this before we talk the lunch hour away. Ensign Mayweather and I are going out to one of the outlying areas. He's supposed to be discussing a matter of shipping with one of the farmers there on behalf of his brother, and I want to look around. So eat up. Neither one of us can afford to be late."

  


* * *

"I confess, I have not yet grown accustomed to the sight of so much water," Suvosh commented, glancing at Reed as he joined the Vulcan on the bridge. "Vulcan has a number of small seas, but nothing that rivals your oceans."

  
Reed couldn't quite be sure, but he would have thought, in another person, that Suvosh sounded almost envious. "My ancestors made their living off them--navy men the lot," he said, ignoring the conflicting emotions that came with the memory. "I was the first to go into space."

  
"Not the last, surely," the other man responded, giving Reed the impression he'd picked up on far more than he had intended.

  
"No, probably not the last," he agreed, choosing to acknowledge it no further.

  
"I am aware," the Vulcan continued, abruptly changing tacks and focusing on the proverbial elephant between them, "that you are aware of the identity of those attempting to spy on the ambassador and her staff."

  
Reed hesitated, looking out at the water. He didn't like this, not one bit. Nevarra Sel was a friend. Suvosh was becoming one, and he didn't like lying to his friends. He'd done far too much of that in recent years, all at the behest of Harris and the Section, and it was not growing any easier, particularly since had had thought it long done. He feared that if he told them the truth--that a rogue Earth faction was somehow behind it--then they would withhold support during this crucial juncture. The new trade coalition had just completed its first summit, after all. He just needed more time, perhaps another month or so, to uncover the plot and make sure everything was taken care of.

  
"Not entirely," Reed responded. "There are any number of potential suspects. I am aware of the likely source of the devices' construction, but beyond that, it will take some time to run the culprits down."

  
It wasn't entirely a lie, and although he suspected the famously paranoid Harris of originally ordering the devices placed in the Betazed embassy, he wasn't sure, and he couldn't be until he did more research and learned how long they'd been there. Harris's recent fall from grace changed the picture. If Harris had placed the listening devices, then left the service, it was anyone's guess who had inherited the role of listener. But Reed had a pretty good idea. "I'm not even entirely sure it's anyone connected to an official government."

  
"You are perhaps referring to the faction of terrorists that came to our attention two years ago?" Suvosh asked with a slight furrowing of his brow. "I did not believe they still had such resources available to them."

  
"I didn't either," Reed answered, keeping his answers as close to the truth as he could make them--all the better to sell the deception. "But we hadn't expected Terra Prime to have the resources to hijack an array on Mars either, and they managed that quite handily." He sighed, leaning his hands on the railing before them. "I don't know exactly who is behind it, Suvosh, but you can be sure I will find out, and I will deal with it." He looked over. "In the meantime, please be careful."

  
Suvosh accepted the warning with a slow nod of his head. "Understood." He gazed out at the water again. "Of course, we cannot consider this breach of our security to be...unique."

  
"Oh?" Reed asked noncommittally.

  
"It seems prudent to assume that other devices, perhaps not so easily found, are still in place." Suvosh shrugged. "Perhaps the listeners think that we found them all, and they think that we will now be free with our words. Or perhaps they were merely to put us on notice. Either way, we will know soon enough, if certain...information discussed in the rooms of the Vulcan Embassy is acted on."

  
"A wise assumption," Reed commented, relief blossoming. Suvosh had anticipated his next warning. Reed hadn't wanted to suggest a tactic of disinformation, but it seemed that the Vulcans were not above it, even if they did not actually lie. Meanwhile, he had to track down the source of the listening devices. Although he relished a challenge, backtracing the materials used to make the devices, then linking that to the purchaser was going to be tedious indeed.

  
Reed looked across the harbor, let his eyes fall on the buildings he knew to be Starfleet headquarters, and sighed.

  


* * *

"Do you think they're out there?"

  
Jonathan Archer turned away from the viewscreen to meet Erika Hernandez's concerned face. The Romulans could not be far from his thoughts while they remained in orbit around Betazed. "Possibly." He glanced at the screen to take in the sight of the other Starfleet ships. "We asked the Betazoids if their abilities would be able to detect anyone in a cloaked ship. They weren't sure, but they did send some of their strongest telepaths up to the Vulcan vessels. They've been listening for company the entire time. If the Romulans are here, they're being very careful about it." Of course, the Betzoids had been up front about admitting that they could not read all races. Nobody knew whether the Romulans could be read at all.

  
"Four ships to protect one trade summit." Hernandez shook her head. "Correction--four of our ships and a few Vulcan vessels to protect one trade summit. How long is this going to go on? We're supposed to be going boldly, not tiptoeing around the place, hoping we don't get blown out of the sky." She looked frustrated, and he couldn't blame her. She wasn't the only one.

  
"We won't be doing this forever," he assured her, a little of his own frustration sneaking into his voice. "Whatever the Romulans are planning, they're not going to get away with this forever, Erika."

  
They were leaving tomorrow. _Defiant, Bonaventure,_ and _Columbia_ would escort some of the delegates back to their home worlds before returning to their own missions. It would all be business as usual, in a manner of speaking.

  
"Before long, they're going to have to come out of the shadows and make another move on us." Archer let his face harden into an expression of resolve. "And when they do, we're going to be ready for them."


End file.
